The Army Moves North

Castle Gate, Utah

As the army slowly moves north, all manner of creatures join it's strength. Giants, Trolls, and Ogres come down from the mountains. The smallfolk of Utah's shires pledge their slings to the king on the ride. Perhaps most unlikely of all, a passing Khalasar, 100 thousand Dothraki horsemen strong, joins to it's strength. Their Khal is a distant cousing of the riding king, it is known.

The songs of ten thousand Bards fill the air. Most are playing the same song, over and over, "I will follow him, follow him wherever he may go" A smelly band of Yoda from the swamps join the army as well. Their mocking voices are never far behind me. I have yet been able to approach the king, but I do have a chance to speak to a small, wizened old sorcerer. His head shaven clean, he wears a necklace of teeth and a coat covered will all manner of charms and talismans. He claims to be the chronicler for the king.

He is not yet willing to tell me the name of the king, or his destination. He tells me only that the king is here to claim what is his, and do so by his own hand.